


A cycle starts anew

by DarkShadeless



Series: Overseer Sar [26]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Humor, Sar being himself, Timmns being a damned troll, my terrible sense of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:59:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: The queerest part of the Alliance base is without a doubt the force Enclave.





	A cycle starts anew

 

 

Bela will admit to having given the area as wide a berth as she could. It’s… unsettling, to see Sith unapologetically practice their techniques next to her own brethren, and them not so much as flinch at the Darkness leaking from their compatriots. Which of the two causes her greater unease she isn't sure.

An accomplishment, to bring about this kind of coexistence, but she can't seem to let her misgivings go.

For so long there was nothing but war between them. Betrayal, treachery, horrors untold. So much death. Before Master Kiwiiks came here she had yet to see a Sith capable and willing to break the circle of hatred if they aren't also ready to let go of the Dark. A part of her is waiting for the other shoe to drop.

What makes these people different?

That’s the crux, isn’t it? They’re not. They are the same people they have always been, the same they are elsewhere. She recognizes many faces, of the older Jedi that call Odessen home.

Raan has succeeded where the Council has failed.

He brought them peace.

Granted, his victory is a partial one. The Empire and the Republic are once again in uneasy truce. Who knows how long it will hold.

Too, he had a common enemy to unite his followers against but the threat has passed. They are still here. By all indication, they plan to stay, Jedi and Sith alike.

“Master Kiwiiks.”

Pulled from her thoughts, Bela comes to a stop. She can’t honestly say whether she expected to see him here or not. He would never stand idly by and let the galaxy fall to ruin but after what he had to experience at the hands of the Sith, after watching the fall of his own master…

“Somminick.” There are shadows in his eyes. Compared to when Bela last saw him, during one of the desperate missions to halt the Eternal Empire’s conquest, that faint impression of troubles weighing on his peace of mind is nothing. “It’s good to see you well.”

The Mirialan smiles. There is both an openness to it and a serenity she doesn’t remember him capable of. “And you Master. I’m afraid I have to get back to my duties. Walk with me?”

 

His duties, it turns out, are much what they used to be. Teaching the younger recruits in the ways of the Force. He always did have a knack. These days, however, he does not do so on his own. That much is apparent before they even see his class.

“- and don’t think for a karking second I haven’t seen you favouring that shoulder! Have you been sparring unsupervised! I swear, I’ll -”

The tirade continues into territory best unrepeated. In fact Bela is sorely tempted to scrub her ears clean.

She throws Timmns a glance, but he seems largely unconcerned. Amused, even.

They crest the hill just as, with a flare of ire as hot as an open flame, the Sith looming over the students picks up even more volume. Amazingly enough the learners practicing their balance above the river don’t seem to be fazed at all.

Bela’s not sure she could have managed the same.

“ _And that’s not the only thing you’ve been favouring!”_ The target of his accusations, Chiss by the coloring, shrinks under his wrath. Lord Sar’s eyes blaze with unholy light. “Kendru, Force help me, the next time you _kriff hard enough_ you can’t _walk straight_ go to medical! In fact, **_do it now_**!”

There is no wildlife to flee as his yell reaches what Master Kiwiiks dearly hopes is the top of his voice. Anything with audial capacity must have taken off a while ago.

As does his student, at the first sign of being allowed to do so. Kendru passes them at as close to a run as he can manage, wincing all the way.

The Sith’s regard, drilling holes into his pupil’s retreating back, falls upon the Jedi and catches hold.

Timmns waves. Bela swears she can hear the darksider’s teeth grinding all the way across the valley.

There’s the distinct air of imminent threat hanging about him as they stroll their way down the path. If looks could kill her fellow master would be dead, roasted and diced for consumption.

“You’re _late_.”

It’s said in the same vein as an accusation of high treason might be. Timmns chuckles sheepishly. “Something came up. Sorry?”

“I’ll give you _sorry_ , do you have any idea what I’ve gone through? What they- I- I’ll-“

Lost for words, Sar gestures wildly. He almost hits the Mirialan in the face.

His fellow instructor ducks, glancing back the way they came. “I can imagine.”

The flailing grows in agitation, accompanied by a high pitched sound.

Timmns, solemnity in every feature, nods his assent. “You are _completely_ right. I don’t know what got into him.” There’s a pause. “Or who, I suppose."

Pale with rage, the Sith buries his face into his hands and proceeds to engage in the most aggressive form of breathing exercise Bela has ever witnessed.

When he looks up again he seems ready to gnaw through Somminick’s bones.

She takes a step back reflexively.

Instead of doing the sensible thing and getting out of biting range at the very least, her fellow Jedi pulls a sports drink container from his robe. It’s a cheerful blue with a print of yellow, aquatic avians. “Tea?”

Bela watches, tense, as the creature of darkness makes its decision between that meagre offering and Timmns’ _life_.

The tea wins, hands down.

Sar grabs the container and upends it with the efficiency of an addict desperately in need of a fix.

Not a second later he freezes. Swallows. Lowers the flask.

“Timmns.”

“Yes?”

“Is that the crime against civilisation you call a purple tisane?”

“Maybe.”

 

 


End file.
